


Feeling Good

by Chance13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, It's James and Lily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:35:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14027265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chance13/pseuds/Chance13
Summary: How it could have gone if Sirius hadn't handed Harry off to Hagrid that night





	Feeling Good

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this 4 years ago but never posted it - I think it was meant to be the start of a long fic I never got round to writing, but it works pretty well as a one shot imo

Sirius stumbled through the rubble of the old home, vision blurring through his un-shed tears. Glass cracked beneath his foot and he picked up a broken singed photo frame. Five of the six occupants grinned and waved madly at him. Lily stood cradling an armful of blankets, a tuft of black hair sticking out. James had his arm around his wife and was staring in at amazement at his one year old son, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was really there. Sirius himself stood between James and Remus, one arm across the animagus’ shoulder while his other hand made bunny ears behind an unsuspecting Remus who was pulling Peter into the photo, causing him to fall into the group. The photo had been taken three months ago to the day on one of the rare times Prongs and Lily had ventured out of their house, taking a day trip to a nearby park for Harry’s first birthday. As far as he could remember it was the only time Harry had left the protection of the Fidelius charm and had spent the whole time laughing at the ducks.

Sirius’ head jerked up at the sound of a cry from upstairs. He slipped the photo out the broken frame, pocketing it, and tightened his grip on his wand. He silently stepped over broken furniture and pieces of shattered decorations as he climbed the mercifully solid stairs towards the source of the noise. He choked on a sob at the sight of James collapsed on the ground, wand fallen beside him. His face was frozen in a look of determination, undoubtedly protecting his family – a true Gryffindor until the end. His hazel stared unseeing into Harry’s room. The door was blasted off the hinges and brightly coloured pictures had fallen to the ground, many charred around the edges, a few ripped apart by the explosion. Sirius gripped the doorframe as he almost collapsed when he saw the second body. Lily lay in front of the cot, her bright red hair surrounding her like a halo, one arm outstretched towards her son. She hadn’t even got the chance to draw her wand.

A small whimper drew his attention to the cot and he almost laughed out loud. Amid the destruction and remain of his house Harry sat in his cot, wrapped up in his blankets, clutching a toy lion, very much alive. Sirius lowered his wand but did not put it away – he could practically hear Alastor shouting ‘Constant Vigilance!’ at him. He carefully crossed the room, checking each corner for a hidden threat, and swept the small child up in his arms, who promptly began to chew on his hair.

“Pa’foo’!” greeted the baby, excited as always to see his Godfather. His face dropped as he saw Lily and James, “Mama an’ Dada sick?”

Sirius bent down, shutting Lily’s eyes. He smoothed down her hair one-handed and kissed her forehead.

“Yes, Mum and Dad are very sick.” He told Harry, “They won’t be getting better.”

Saying out loud, even to a one-year-old, brought the reality of the situation crashing down on him, and the tears he had been holding in streamed down his face, leaving streams of white skin as the dust and grime covering his face was washed away.

Back in the hallway he knelt down on the floor next to his best friend. He shut his eyes and straightened his glasses. He fished his wand out of the dust around them and placed it in James’ hand, shutting the man’s fist around it.

“Goodbye Prongs. Don’t worry; I’ll look after Harry, I’ll make sure he’s safe. And I’ll find the bastard that did this and I’ll make sure they pay.”

He got up and staggered away from his friends, clutching Harry to him. He stumbled to the front door, heading to his motorbike. He froze half way down the garden path when he saw a giant shadow standing on the pavement. He tightened his grip on Harry and raised his wand towards the intruder.

“Who’s there?” he called out, hiding the choke in his voice. The shadow raised their hands and stepped into the light of a street lamp. Sirius saw the red and white polka dot handkerchief and their hand, and with that and their size he knew who the ‘stranger’ was before he even saw their face. “Hagrid? What are you doing here?”

“Dumbledore sent me.” The giant’s voice was gruff from crying, “Wants me to take the kid. Says it’ll be best if he lives with his aunt.”

“No.”

“Black, Dumbledore said-”

“And I say no. I’m his godfather. I’m his guardian. Dumbledore has no say in what happens to Harry. He knows nothing about him. Nothing. I am not letting him go live with those Muggles," Sirius paused trying to calm himself, blinking back tears, "I met Lily’s sister at the wedding, and that once was just enough. She is a horrible woman. I’ve never seen two people who hate magic more. And she detested her sister. She won’t look after Harry. She won’t love him or care for him. No, you won't take him.”

Hagrid blinked at Sirius’ ferocity. The two didn’t know each other well and he didn’t know how protective Sirius was of his family.

“I- well,” he groped for words, unsure of how to respond; Dumbledore had sent him for the boy, but there was no chance of Black giving him up willingly.

Sirius took pity on him. “Look,” he sighed, “just tell Dumbledore you came, but I had already taken him. I’ll take Harry home- he knows where I live. This doesn’t all have to be sorted out tonight. Tell him to just give everyone a few days to calm down a bit.”

Hagrid nodded, walking out of the light, back down the street away from the ruins of the home. Sirius sat down on his motorbike, repositioning Harry in his arms. He would have to leave soon; there were Muggles in Godric’s Hollow and they weren’t going to stay asleep forever, especially not after an explosion that loud.

Sirius looked down into the emerald green eyes staring up at him. He smiled at the baby through his tears, “If Lily knew that I was going to take you on my bike she might actually come back just to yell at me.”

He revved the engine and the bike took off into the sky, and soon Godric’s Hollow was just a small collection of lights in the middle of the dark English countryside.

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius landed in an alleyway around the corner from the flat he shared with Remus and drove the bike up to the block. Abandoning the bike in the entrance hall of the block he raced up the three flights of stairs and unlocked the front door.

“Remus?”

He was greeted by the sight of his friend asleep in an armchair, a cold mug of tea on the side table and a dusty hardback fallen open at his feet. Should he wake him? He needed to tell him about James and Lily, and Harry, and the hectic events of the last four hours, but Remus had had a really bad moon just two days previously and was still feeling the effects. He needed to recover, get all the sleep he could.

Before he could dither any longer the decision was made for him as Harry chose that moment to wake up and begin crying. Remus jerked awake, startled by the sudden wake.

“Pads?” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “What are-” he stopped as he saw his best friend standing next him holding a crying baby. “What in Godric’s name are you doing with Harry? Why isn’t he with James and Lily? He needs to be kept safe.”

Sirius bounced Harry lightly, calming him down, and ran his fingers through his messy hair, sinking down into a seat. “I know,” he whispered, then slightly louder, “I know. That’s why he’s here. Remus,” he paused searching for the best way to tell him. Really there was only one way he could. “Moony, Lily and James, they're dead.”

“Sirius, that’s not the sort of thing you should joke about, stop messing about,” he stopped when he saw the grief in Sirius’ eyes. “You’re not joking.” Sirius shook his head and Remus sank back into his chair running his hand across his face. “But why? How?”

Sirius just shook his head again and whispered, “I don’t know Moony. I don’t know.”

Harry stopped chewing the ear of his soft white rabbit and started to make grabbing gestures towards Remus. “Moo’y!” he cried, beaming at recognising the second person. Remus plastered on a smile and reached for the child.

“Hey kiddo. Looks like you’re going to be staying here for a while.” He turned his attention back to Sirius, “How did he survive?” he traced his pinkie finger across the baby’s forehead, “They must have gone after him too, but all that’s there is this scar.” He lifted Harry up to eye level causing him to giggle, “You are extremely lucky, you know that right?” All the recognition he got was a large yawn.

“You’d think after two hours asleep on the bike he’d be ready for anything.” He took Harry from Remus, and the other man transfigured an old box into a makeshift cot for the night.

“You took him on your motorbike?” he asked incredulously, “Lily is going to-” he stopped mid sentence, realising what he was saying.

“Yeah, I already thought that,” Sirius gave him a watery smile.

The two tucked Harry in, leaving the cot at the end of their room, not willing to have him out of their sight, and got into their separate beds.

“I’ll put up some more wards tomorrow, and we can go get him some new stuff.”

“Ok. Night Moony.”

“Night Pads.”

Sirius turned out the lights with a quick swish of his wand and the two men lay in silence, staring into the darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius opened his eyes. An orange glow filtered around the edge of the curtains from the streetlamp outside, but apart from that it was completely dark. He grabbed the clock off his side table. Half three. He slumped back onto his pillows. Why half three? What on earth could have woken him up?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Harry was still sleeping- his rhythmic snuffled breathing attested to that. Remus. Remus wasn’t there. He didn’t even have to check; after ten years of sharing a room with him Sirius could pick out Remus’ quite breathing from miles away. He heard a creek from outside. The floorboard next to the living room door he’d say if he had to guess. He picked up his wand and crept out the room, silently shutting the door behind him. He peered around the edge of the door into the living room. At first glance it was completely empty – had he guessed the wrong room? – but then he saw a few sprigs of sandy brown hair sticking up over the top of the sofa. He pocketed his wand and walked around the piece of furniture to where Remus sat, knees pulled up to his chest. Sirius slid down next to him, stretching his legs out as far as they would go until his feet hit the cream wall opposite.

Remus opened his mouth to speak- maybe to apologise for waking him –but all that came out was a choked sob. Sirius put a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulder and drew him in closer. The shoulder of his t-shirt was slowly soaked as Remus rested his head on his should. Sirius just leant against the side of his head, allowing his tears to fall and mingle with Remus’ before they soaked into the wooden floor.

Tomorrow they would wake up on the floor with dried tears stains on their faces. Remus would improve the wards, just like he said. They would talk to Dumbledore too, and after a very long and heated argument in which Sirius and Remus convinced him that not only would Harry be safer in the magical world, he would also be happier than with his magic-hating relatives, and he would allow the two men to keep Harry. Sirius would tell them how Peter was the Secret Keeper, and it would come out that he betrayed them. Eventually he would be tracked down by the Aurors- Peter was never that smart, and it was only a week until he was found in an underground sewage tunnel in his rat form – and sent to Azkaban, convicted as a Death Eater and Accessory to Murder. Then they would go out, just as planned and buy the necessary things for raising a one-year-old boy and try to forget the traitor ever existed.

In two weeks they would return to Godric’s Hollow, but not for the last time. They would attend James and Lily’s funeral, cry silently at the service and leaves flowers at their graves. They would visit their house; still in it’s ruined state, preserved in their memory, with a small plaque on the garden gate. They would go into the house, just as Sirius had done weeks earlier, their feet crunching on the frosty ground and breath forming clouds in the November chill. They would take Harry up to his room and try to find anything left intact from that night and silently walk from room to empty room, collecting photos and keepsakes to show him as he grew to go along with the stories they would tell him for the next eleven years. Eventually they would leave the house, the three of them, as a family and apparate home to London. Harry would sit and play with his toys; mostly chewing them contentedly while Remus and Sirius cooked their tea.

They fell into a routine after the first month, and time passed and Harry grew, and slowly the ache of loosing their two best friends would fade, not disappear; that pain was something that could never be forgotten, but fade to a dull, bearable ache that they could carry around with them. They could remember their deaths without tears and instead focus on the happier times, telling them to Harry as bed time stories. They would talk about their pranks they would pull at school, how James would follow Lily all day until she jinxed him enough that he let her be, and how the best friends had become inseparable.

**Author's Note:**

> When I say 'cooking tea' I mean the meal, not the drink - it's another name for dinner in Britain


End file.
